My mother, for the last 20 years anyway, would not call herself a Marxist but a human rights activist.
And whatever my weight, I've always been skinny from the waist up.
When I very first started out, I had that arrogance of youth.
You grow up by making mistakes. I've made a ton of them, but as long as I keep on failing better, I don't mind.
So often people say something and you realise you haven't really heard it.
I'd love to adopt, but having a daughter, Daisy, who's in the middle of her teens, I'm now thinking: Is this a time to start all over again or is this a time to realise those child-rearing years are over?